


A Little Holiday Magic

by itsavolcano



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Allusions to Season 5, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Magic, F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa 2018, Happily Ever After, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 06:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsavolcano/pseuds/itsavolcano
Summary: When an 084 turns up in the form of an enchanted snow globe, Simmons's world is shaken up—quite literally.





	A Little Holiday Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Traviosita9124](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/gifts).



> For traviosita9124 as part of the FitzSimmons Secret Santa 2018 who requested Fitz or Simmons receive a holiday gift that makes them see the other person in a different light. 
> 
> Thank you to dilkirani for the beta!!

The 084 Ward had dropped off at the lab with a terse “Consider it a gift. Merry Christmas” was… odd. Well, Simmons supposed “odd” was the nature of most recovered 084s but this one was particularly strange. Strange in that it didn’t seem as if it should be an 084 but rather a holiday decoration. 

She hoisted the snow globe in her gloved hand and peered at the wintry scene. She wasn’t exactly sure how one ran tests on a snow globe but… 

“What do you think it means?” On the other side of the glass, Fitz pulled a face, his bright blue eyes seemingly enchanted by the little snow-covered home. 

“It’s likely nothing.”

“But people are reporting—”

“That with a vigorous shake of the globe, they see their future?” She rolled her eyes. “Fitz, ‘tis the season. People are more prone to fanciful thinking. Besides—how can someone know they’ve witnessed their future until they live it? And even then, said future could involve getting more milk at the shops, or burning their finger while cooking. It doesn’t mean winning lotto tickets or fairytale weddings.”

For reasons Simmons didn’t understand he looked crestfallen, pulling his lip between his teeth. Over the last few months, he had been acting odd, more aloof than usual where she was concerned. She supposed he was still upset over her jumping out of the plane to save the team. She wasn’t too pleased with herself over that either—she should have ensured the antiserum had indeed failed before doing something so rash. If the situation had been reversed, and Fitz had jumped from the plane in some sacrifice play, Simmons wasn’t certain she would have handled it well, either. 

Or perhaps he was still upset she had tackled that dendrotoxin bomb on the train a few weeks ago. She really needed a holiday—a trip home, maybe. Typically, the Christmas season was her favorite time of year: the crisp cold air making cheeks rosy and eyes bright, the mugs of hot cocoa with dollops of whipped cream, and weekend adventures with her family. During one such snowy Christmas, she and her parents had traveled to Scotland where she had seen the sweetest little cottage—

She glanced over the dome of the globe, sneaking a look at Fitz. But, to her surprise, he was already watching her, an expression of such warmth it made her stomach flutter. How odd. 

She redirected her attention to the small scene tucked under the falling snow. She gave it a shake—couldn’t help it really—and rolled her eyes when Fitz wheezed a gasp at her boldness. And she had been feeling bold lately. Normally, she would have run a dozen tests on the device after a recommended 24 hours in quarantine, but the weight of the globe in her hand and the lovely little cottage under the glass was just too much of a temptation. Perhaps she was getting too comfortable in the field, but once you’ve tossed yourself from a jet in order to avoid causing a cataclysmic death toll, a snow globe was child’s play. She stifled a laugh at her own little joke. Being in the field was an ongoing adjustment, of course, but with her best friend by her side, she believed anything was possible. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. A tingle of a thought curled at the back of her mind but she brushed it aside and held the globe up under the light.

“See?” It hadn’t done anything after her reckless little shake. Maybe that was the only test they needed to run on it. Done and dusted, she thought as she peered at the quaint little scene. A cheery little cottage with a lovely thatched roof and warm light glowing in the front windows. A tall pine tree was next to the house, picturesque and dusted in snow. A figure of a man dressed in a buffalo plaid coat and knit cap appeared to be mid-stride, heading for the cottage door, a small fluffy dog leading the way. So peculiar. 

The cottage, Simmons thought, reminded her of one she had seen as a young girl, traveling with her parents though Scotland during one of her breaks from the Academy. The cottage had caught her fancy and reminded her of the grumpy boy she had met the semester previous… By that time, they had only just become friends, with Fitz finally giving up his hatred (and need to show her up in every class they shared). But it had been too early to think of a future together, of a place where they could grow old and—Simmons stopped, startled, as something flickered in the cottage window and caught her attention. She brought it up for a closer look. 

“I really don’t think you should put something with the potential to explode quite so close to your face.” Fitz reached for her arm. “And I can’t believe I have to even tell you that.”

“Did you see—?” And then the flicker grew wider until it was more like a flash, blinding her. The globe slipped from her hand but she didn’t hear it shatter. Not over Fitz’s shout. She could feel him catch her, and only then did she understand she had started to fall. 

And then everything went a bright gold and she didn’t understand much of anything as her consciousness tipped away. 

xXx

With a jolt, Simmons gasped upright. Well, she looked around, she was already standing upright, with her hands deep in warm, sudsy dish water as she soaped up a dinner plate. It was covered in a dainty blue bird design. She frowned. It looked similar to her grandmother’s china pattern. Strange. What an odd detail for her subconscious to add to a dream. 

Because that’s what this most definitely was—a dream. She was undoubtedly unconscious on the lab’s concrete floor, most likely from a drop in blood sugar. Except… except she never forgot to eat. She kept nutritious snacks on hand for just the occasion. Again, she frowned. With habitual movements, she rinsed the plate and gave it a shake before placing it in the drying rack. 

Where had her subsconscious decided to drop her? Confused, she blinked and leaned up to get a better look out of the small kitchen window. It was too dark to see much, but the moonlight bounced off the fresh snow and she could make out a lovely, tall pine tree just beyond the window, tucked near the corner of the garden. Curiouser.

The rhythmic stomps of someone shaking snow from their boots echoed just outside the door to the mud room. Reflexively, she curled her hand around a knife, pulling it up out of the murky dishwater just as the door opened and let in a gust of cold, snowy air. 

“C’mon, Penelope, you know you can’t run off into the house. Not after the way you rolled in that disgusting puddle.”

Fitz.

Simmons practically exhaled in relief as he rounded the corner, a small shaggy brown terrier clamoring at his ankles. But her relief quickly shifted to alarm as she caught sight of him. 

He was older than the boy whose arms had reached out to her as she crashed to the ground. He had filled out in the shoulders and he had a beard. Never in all of their years side by side had she thought he would ever grow a beard… Why had her brain supplied such an odd detail?

“It is absolutely frigid out there,” he groused good-naturedly, before pulling up short. With wide eyes—the same beautiful blue eyes as always—he stared at her. This felt familiar, at least, she thought, before realizing what had captured his attention. She dropped the knife from her hand, back into the sink with a splash.

“You gonna butter me up?” His brogue was thicker than she’d heard in recent years after all of their time stateside. Her northern accent had mellowed as well, but she hadn’t realized how much they both had changed until this very moment. He moved closer, a playful glint in his eye. Was he flirting?

God she hoped so. She jumped. Where had that come from?

He held her with a new familiarity, his warm hands on her hips, as he leaned in and brushed the cold tip of his nose against her flushed cheek. She shivered and tensed up.

Fitz stepped back. “What’s going on?” His brow was creased with concern. 

“Hmm?” Despite the bit of distance he had put between them, he was standing so distractingly close she could smell his cologne. She hoped she would remember to research if the sense of smell was a factor in dream states. 

She hoped she’d remember many things about this dream. 

“You’re just acting strange.”

“No, nothing’s going on.” Surprising herself even more, Simmons reached up and stroked his cheek. He curled against her palm and she sighed at the soft intimacy of it. 

“Is it the Christmas spirit?” He teased. “Did you nip into Mrs. McCleary’s rum cake? You know she has a heavy pour.” 

Although she had no idea who Mrs. McCleary was, Simmons laughed and rolled her eyes. This felt like more familiar ground. 

“You know I don’t like rum cake.”

“Those little tea cakes then. Gave you a sugar rush.” He wrapped her in his arms and swayed. Simmons melted into his embrace. Was he always this tactile? Did she subconsciously wish he were more tactile and hence, his role as her dream… boyfriend? She discreetly peeked at her left hand, now settled against the plush shoulder of his plaid flannel coat. 

A simple gold band complete with a diamond rested on her ring finger. Scrambling, she pulled his left hand from her waist and gasped. He wore a gold band as well.

He smiled, seemingly mistaking her surprise for awe.

“Do you think we’ll ever get used to it, wife?” Amusement laced his words. Simmons barely registered the brush of his lips along the slope of her cheek. 

“I—I do not.” She couldn’t take her eyes from their hands. Married? He was her— “Husband.”

With a playful squeeze and a final kiss to her cheek, he dropped his arms and discarded his coat, tossing it on the nearest chair. 

“Well, wife. It’s the 23rd of December and what better way to spend it than with the woman I love, our scrappy mess of a pup, and two mugs of hot cocoa? My mother’s secret recipe.”

“It’s hardly a secret. Your mother uses cream instead of milk.” Simmons ran her thumb over the underside of the ring. Now that she knew it was there, she couldn’t let it be. It was beautiful and understated—not something she would have thought to choose, but it was perfect. 

“I can’t believe she told.” Fitz took out a saucepan from the cupboard. “She’d known you for all of a day and immediately spilled her secret recipe.”

He was being playful and charming. She loved it. This man was so different from the best friend she’d spent the afternoon arguing with over a silly snow globe in the lab. He was relaxed and confident, as if there wasn’t anywhere else he would rather be. And yet these two men were the same, making her laugh, teasing her. Keeping her safe in his arms. Loving her.

Although she and Fitz had never shared anything beyond a companionable hug or a reassuring cuddle, she found herself wondering how this dream husband kissed. What could it hurt, kissing one’s best friend in a dream where they just happened to be married and living in a picturesque cottage? Who would know?

Determined, she crossed the small kitchen and with a gentle caress of her hand, turned him to face her. Then, without much preamble, she slipped up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. He startled for a brief second before quickly righting himself and wrapping his arms around her. He tipped his head and she followed suit. The kiss was soft, sweet but the way he cradled her cheek in the palm of his hand, the way he way he drew her closer to him, held the promise of something even more delicious. 

She wanted to know more of this man. Even in her dreams, she craved knowledge. Was it possible—was she in love with Fitz?

He broke the kiss first, the boiling saucepan catching his attention. But something in her face must have concerned him and he set the saucepan on a cold burner before taking her hands in his.

“I know this is our first Christmas in our new home and away from SHIELD, but I promise Deke will love it. He loves anything, really. He’s like a shiny new puppy that way. In fact you could toss a stick and he’d bring it back every time. Even Penelope finds his behavior embarrassing.” He tipped his chin over to where the wee dog had fallen asleep on her back, her paws stretched over her head. Fitz gave her a warm kiss before returning to his hot cocoa.

“Deke?” Simmons felt so lost. They had been kissing and now they were talking about someone she’d never heard of. Had she sustained a concussion when she fell? She’d thought Fitz had caught her but… 

“I promised to make pancakes for a late brunch as long as he promised to not call me Granddad or… Bobo.” He set about mixing the cream into the chocolate, stirring gingerly.

“Why would he do that?”

“Exactly. Why?” His stirring grew aggressive for a moment. “I can’t fathom any universe where I’d willingly agree to my grandson calling me Bobo of all things. Probably a moment of nostalgia for my own granddad. Time will quite literally never tell.”

She felt dizzy.

“A grandson?” 

Her confusion mounted, swirling around her. In theory, dreams were only seconds long, but this particular dream felt as if it had gone on for ages. —Long enough for her to have a grandson, apparently. They didn’t look a day over 35, so how—why… She and her subconscious needed to sit down and have a serious chat when she woke up. If she even remembered. 

“Oh, please let me remember,” she whispered but Fitz still heard her, worry now etched across his face.

“Jemma?” He reached for her but then everything fell away. 

xXx

“Jemma?” Fitz was cradling her head in his hands when she opened her eyes. He looked as worried as she had ever seen him. 

He hadn’t moved her from the cold concrete floor of the lab. Nor, it seemed, had he alerted anyone to her collapse. Which led her to believe she had only been out for a few seconds, but oh, what an earth-changing few seconds those had been. 

“I had the strangest dream.” She winced at her choice of words. How cliche. “You were there.”

“Which was I? The scarecrow, cowardly lion, or the tin man?”

“No, none of those.”

“The dog, Toto?”

“Her name was Penelope. I wonder what it could mean?” Simmons paused, a thought occurring to her. “In The Odyssey, she waits for her husband to return from a long journey but that doesn’t make sense. Of course, it also means ‘duck’ so… What do you think? Why would we have named our dog Penelope?”

“I think it means you managed to hit your head on the way down—” He paused and Simmons could almost see him processing his thoughts. “Wait, what? Our dog?”

“Hmm.” 

She quite enjoyed being in his arms like this now that she was awake. How had she never noticed the soft fullness of his bottom lip before now? 

“You dreamt we had a dog?” His voice was cracking now. 

“And a nice little cottage.”

“A cottage?” 

Simmons sighed, exasperated. “Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

“If everything you say is outlandish, then probably, yes.” She noticed he hadn’t made any effort to move or to help her out of his embrace. 

“Marrying me and settling down is outlandish, now, is it?”

“Hang on a minute—married?” He suddenly looked like a guppy fish, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly for several seconds. It appeared he was short-circuiting. 

“I hadn’t thought about it much, but it does make sense, in the end.” She shrugged a shoulder. While she hadn’t thought of it before, now it was all she could manage to think about. 

“Us. Married.”

“Yes. Don’t you think? I never want to be without you and I believe—unless I’m wrong, which we know is rare—you never want to be without me. We want to grow old together, side by side. Ergo, marriage.”

“Ergo, marriage?”

She felt him tense up but still, he didn’t let her go and she dug her fingers into the sleeve of his sweater to keep him in place.

“Simmons, I cannot believe you would be so categorically blasé about marriage. It might not matter to you, but I hope to marry someone who is head-over-heels in love with me, and vice versa.”

“What makes you think I don’t love you?” 

“What—” He was doing that guppy fish thing again. 

Without preamble, and for the second time tonight, she gathered her courage and kissed her best friend. He froze, motionless for a brief moment, but when she gently smoothed her hands up over his shoulders, he began to kiss her back, slanting his mouth over hers. It was warm and wonderful, and held the promise of many more kisses. 

She leaned back and took in his dazed expression. “Is there mistletoe above my head?”

“No,” she laughed.

“Is this a trick?”

“No trick.” She brushed her lips over his and he followed her lead. “I just love you.”

Saying those words out loud left her feeling vulnerable but Fitz didn’t let her down. He kept her safe, just like always. 

“Well, that’s a pretty nice Christmas gift, Simmons.” He smiled, a flirty and familiar glint in his eye. “I got you a fancy set of beakers but you’ve gone and shown me up.” 

She snorted but he dipped his head closer, brushing the tip of his nose over the slope of her cheek. Simmons felt a tingle of déjà vu. 

“I happen to love you, too.”

“And want to settle down?”

“Right now?” He didn’t seem to mind the idea. 

“Eventually. Right now I was hoping you’d make me some cocoa. I have such a craving.”

“That can be arranged.” He helped her to her feet. 

“But first—” He kissed her, his palm resting against her cheek. Even after the kiss ended, he held her close. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that. Or believe this is real.”

“Whenever you need reassuring, please let me know.” She raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. 

“So,” he slung his arm loosely around her waist, “tell me more about this dream you had.”

“Well that was pretty much the bulk of it. Dog, cottage, married. Although, I can’t quite understand how or why my subscious decided to toss that Deke in the mix.” She tapped her lip as Fitz led her out of the lab and down the corridor to the kitchen.

“What in the world is a Deke?”

On the floor of the lab, the forgotten snow globe rested on its side, a warm glow flickering from the small window of the miniature cottage.


End file.
